


Not the Firewhisky Type

by tamlane



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Aunt/Nephew Incest, Champagne, Cross-Generation Relationship, Cunnilingus, Dominance, F/M, Incest, Older Woman/Younger Man, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Tension, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamlane/pseuds/tamlane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An aunt, her nephew, and a bottle of bubbly not necessarily meant for drinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the Firewhisky Type

**Author's Note:**

> For [lightofdaye](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lightofdaye), who can throw down the gauntlet like no one else I know. (April 2014)

"And here I'd always thought of you as the firewhisky type," Ginny said as her nephew knelt between her spread legs.

Freddie held a flute glass in one beefy hand and an opened bottle of champagne in the other. In between, his cock hung thick and heavy, dark as the bubbly beverage was light. He released a solitary huff of laughter as he leant forward. "Better than thinking of me as the butterbeer type, I suppose."

Ginny briefly closed her eyes, thinking of all those times she'd popped open a butterbeer for him and James on a summer afternoon when they were muddy and wind-chafed from playing Quidditch all day. That little boy had all but disappeared beneath mounds of hard muscle that she'd had no right to study as closely as she had over the past few years.

The mischievous smirk, however, remained, and Freddie flashed it at her now, a moment before he bent his head. His gaze held hers as he flattened his tongue against her belly and gave it a broad, rough lick. The cold glass followed a moment later, balancing on the moistened skin.

Freddie started to pour.

"Gonna be hard to drink it that way." Ginny tried for nonchalance, perhaps even a bit of a scolding tone, but it was no use. She was already drenching the sheets beneath her weeping slit, and Freddie knew it as well as she did.

"'S not the champagne I plan on drinking," he replied. With an easy flick of his wand, he levitated the bottle back towards the nightstand, leaving the full glass bobbing precariously over her navel.

With a shrug, Ginny made to reach for it. "More for me—"

And found her wrist pinned at her side, Freddie holding the glass upright with one large fingertip of his other hand. "Easy." And now he was the one doing the scolding, although his voice also held a hint of menace. "You don’t want to spill it."

"Is that a threat?" Ginny asked, already knowing the answer. Already hoping for the answer.

But instead of answering, Freddie merely flattened himself on the bed between her legs — slowly, smoothly — and touched the very tip of his tongue to her exposed, swollen clit.

Ginny watched breathlessly as the bubbles rose to the top of the glass.

_The End_


End file.
